


Stay Alive

by Creme_Fraiche



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Crush, Blood and Gore, Confused Hercules Mulligan, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler Deserves Better, Gay Thomas Jefferson, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, Multi, Murder Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protect Maria Reynolds, Serial Killers, Slasher Movie, The Author Regrets Nothing, The author has a twisted sense of humour, Who uses a landline phone anymore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme_Fraiche/pseuds/Creme_Fraiche
Summary: When a teenage girl is found brutally murdered in her family home, shockwaves erupt through a small New England community that leave a group of friends desperately attempting to discover the identity of the masked killer as he picks them off one by one.Join the cast of Hamilton as you've never seen them before, fighting for their lives in a 2020 take on the classic 1996 slasher movie SCREAM.Happy Halloween Hamilfans!
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, John Laurens/Margaret "Peggy" Schuyler
Comments: 22
Kudos: 24





	1. First Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom, I hope you enjoy it! It's gonna be a violent one, but this will be a love letter to the greatest horror movie of all time, and the greatest musical of all time, all rolled into one. Comments, bookmarks and kudos are much appreciated, and again I hope you enjoy!

“Hello?” Peggy asked as she picked up the phone, muttering to herself as she paused the copy of Friday The 13th she’d rented for the night,

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line responded, the voice unfamiliar, a male voice but unfamiliar all the same, 

“Yes?” Peggy rested the phone between her shoulder and her ear, rolling up her sleeves that had fallen beyond her delicate wrists, her favourite buttercup-yellow hoodie too large against her frame, the dim light of the TV casting her shadow across the dark living room area. 

“Who am I speaking to?” The voice enquired, his voice husky and rasping. Peggy frowned, taking the phone back into her hand and flicking the lights on, the sudden warm glow reaching out into the hallway as she turned to look over her shoulder, glancing out of the window into the darkness of the night,

“Who are you calling for?” She shot the question right back, stepping over the discarded candy wrappers she’d tossed to the floor, moving into the hallway and turning on the lights in there, her night of home alone horror movies disturbed by her mystery caller,

“I dunno, somebody,” The voice replied, almost in a low purr, Peggy’s frown returning as she walked into the kitchen, slipping slightly on the tiled floor. She caught herself, and rested against the countertop of the island, 

“Sorry, somebody doesn’t live here,” She glanced at her reflection in the fridge door, “Bye now.” She pushed the end call button with her thumb, setting the phone down and walking to the fridge, opening the door wide as she scanned it’s contents. She was left to house sit for her parents while they took Eliza and Angelica to look at potential colleges, and they hadn’t stocked up the fridge? She bent at the waist to open the freezer drawer, jumping in shock as the phone began to ring again. She closed the fridge door and picked up the phone, raising it to her ear,

“Hello?” She asked, spinning on her heels to lean against the kitchen island, her eyes narrowing as the voice spoke to her again,

“Sorry, I must’ve dialed a wrong number,” The voice was softer now, but maintained the coarse throatiness. Peggy pulled a face, her hand landing behind her on the countertop,

“So why’d you dial it again?” She was incredulous with her tone, almost laughing as she stood straight, walking over to the fridge again.

“To apologise,” The voice replied, a brief pause passing between them as Peggy scanned the fridge a second time, “What’s that humming sound?”

“The fridge,” Peggy reached inside, retrieving a can of soda and cracking it open, taking a swig.

“What’re you drinking?” The voice jumped in, the sound of a car driving by in the distance filling the otherwise silent kitchen. Peggy closed the fridge door with her foot as she turned, making her way back to the living room,

“Soda, popcorn makes me thirsty,” Her tone was dry, disinterested in the conversation her caller was attempting to make. 

“You’re eating popcorn?” The feeling suddenly shifted in his voice, pushing to drive the conversation, “I only eat popcorn when I go to the movies.”

Peggy sat heavily back on the sofa, her eyes half lidded as she stared blankly into the TV screen, the image of Jason Vorhees with his machete raised somewhat humorous in it’s static state. She sat back,

“I was in the middle of watching a movie when you called.” She tried to angle her comment in the direction of steering her creepy caller away, her tone a little more pointed than before. The caller chuckled, 

“Oh really? What ya watching?” He remained on the prowl, but Peggy remained unbothered, taking another swig of her soda as she found a comfortable sitting position,

“Friday the Thirteenth,” She mumbled, wondering why she hadn’t hung up yet, but knowing that this was the longest conversation she’d had with anyone in quite some time. She was always in the shadow of her older sisters, everyone paid less attention to her, even her parents. 

Maybe she was just enjoying the company.

“Horror fan?” The voice broke Peggy from her thoughts, the sound of his smirk twisting his voice slightly, “Didn’t think girls liked horror movies.”   
  
“Please,” Peggy grinned, “It’s the twenty-first century, and girls like me  _ love  _ horror movies.” She picked up another piece of popcorn, balancing it between her teeth before biting down into it, the caller snickering on the other end of the line,

“Okay, okay, sorry,” He mused, “Don’t get a lot of girls that look like you though, that’s for sure.”

Peggy paused, sitting up in her seat as she glanced to the window,

“...What did you say?” She asked, slowly, her volume dipping slightly. 

“I said you don’t meet a lot of girls like you?” The caller backtracked, his inflection quizzical and suddenly concerned, “Are you alright? You sound worried about something.”   
  
“Yeah, I…” Peggy climbed to her feet, walking over to the window to look out into the darkness, before drawing the curtains swiftly, “I am, sorry, I’ve gotta go,” She tried quickly, moving to the kitchen again. 

“Wait, what’s wrong? I thought we were getting on great?” The caller sounded hurt, his flirtatious tone quickly dissolved, but his concern did nothing to shake Peggy’s nerves as she walked into the kitchen, 

“Sorry, my parents are home,” Peggy lowered the phone from her ear, the caller’s distant voice suddenly dark as he contested her choice, warning her not to hang up mere seconds before she held the button. 

Silence filled the kitchen as Peggy set the phone down on the counter, her heartbeat faster than before as she retreated her hands inside the sleeves of her hoodie, seeking a moment of comfort as she tried to slow her pulse down. The silence pierced her, the shrill suddenness of the phone ringing again causing her to jerk, swallowing the knot in her throat and picking it up.

“I told you, my parents are home,” She tried, the caller quick with his rebuttal,

“And I told you not to hang up, don’t test me-”

“Don’t test  _ me _ ,” Peggy interrupted him, adrenaline taking over suddenly, “My parents are calling the police  _ right now  _ so if you don’t get your ass out of here you’re going straight to jail.” She felt the knot in her stomach, butterflies fluttering as she took her stand. 

Silence. Peggy exhaled slowly, a sense of accomplishment washing over her as she spoke again,

“Get it?”

“I do,” The caller replied, “But what I don’t get is that if your parents are home, why is there no car on the driveway?”

_ Shit _ .

Peggy’s heart plummeted into the depth of her body, her breath hitching as she was caught in her lie. The caller knew she was alone, and he was outside her house. She was frozen in place in the kitchen, the phone still raised to her ear as the caller’s voice crackled through the receiver, menacing and warning,

“I think you should stop lying to me,” He rasped, “Do you think you can handle that?  _ Peggy _ ?”

Peggy pushed her thumb into the end-call button, throwing the phone across the room in panic, the cheap plastic exterior shattering on contact with the wall, small pieces flying out around the kitchen. Peggy shrank back, shielding herself as her chest heaved, her fight or flight response triggered. She spun on her heels to make a run to the next room, slipping on the tiled flooring and crashing to the ground, exclaiming in shock as she collided with the hard floor, pain shooting from her ankle up her leg. She could taste pennies in her mouth, spitting a glob of blood onto the tiles as she realised she’d bitten her tongue as she fell. 

“Shit,” She winced as she clamoured to her feet, limping as she made her way to the front door, pulling on the handle to ensure that it was locked, turning away and resting her back against the door, struggling to catch her breath. Her mind was flooded with panic and fear, her head reeling with questions of  _ why me? Why now?  _

She reached into her pocket, patting around to try and find her phone. She bit hard into her lip to silence herself as she realised her phone lay in the sitting room where she’d been watching the movie, balanced perfectly on the arm of the sofa. She gripped the door handle, mentally psyching herself up to walk on her quickly bruising ankle. She’d twisted it in the fall, her head lulling to the side slightly as she fought through the pain of walking, limping towards the sitting room, the faint flicker of the TV set breaking through the doorway. She paused around the corner, holding her breath as she attempted to listen for any noise. She couldn’t stand walking on this ankle for much longer, she needed to get to her phone and call Eliza.

_ Eliza. Angelica. Mom. Dad. _

A surge of emotion welled behind her eyes as she thought about what would happen. What would happen if they found her… 

No. She sidled around the corner into the sitting room, spotting her phone perched where she’d left it. She couldn’t stop the smile stretching across her face as she staggered towards the sofa, reaching out for her phone, a slight wince breaking free as she rested more weight on her bruised ankle, taking a knee as she grabbed her phone, curling up behind the sofa and holding it to her chest. She was elated, she stood a chance. She clicked her phone to life, and stared at the lock screen as the loud  _ ding  _ of a text tone reverberated around the room.

A text from a private number stared back, reading,

_ “Heads up :)” _

The TV cut to black, the room falling into total darkness as for a split second, Peggy’s heart skipped a beat, her breathing slow as she remained behind the sofa. He’d cut the electricity. She held herself there, the lack of followup from the TV striking a nerve with her. She climbed to her feet, looking around in the darkness before snickering. 

He didn’t have the balls to do it. She took slow steps towards the window, a heavy exhale leaving her as she flung the curtains open, the darkness of the outside somewhat peaceful. 

A figure emerged from the darkness, faster than Peggy could react, a gloved fist shooting through the glass, shattering as fragments of the windowpane lacerated Peggy’s face as they passed, the fist closing around her throat as she stared back at her assailant, struggling to make out any physical aspects in the dark, the only clear thing being the mask they wore. It looked like a fencing mask, with a crudely drawn smiley face on it. She wrapped her hands around the arm that had broken through the window, pulling at it as her attacker fought to pull her through the window. Peggy hooked her foot under the radiator, and threw herself back, bringing the masked attacker in through the window, the two landing heavily on the carpet. Peggy scrambled to her feet, making a break for the doorway when her attacker grabbed her bruised ankle, causing her to yell and tumble to the floor. She felt her body being pulled back across the floor, and with a wince of burning pain, she rolled onto her back, bending her knee and unleashing a severe kick to the masked face, causing them to stagger, holding their face.

Peggy struggled, staggering to her feet to hop out of the room, tears breaking through the corners of her eyes as the searing pain from her ankle began to overwhelm her. She had to get out of the house, as fast as she could, she knew that if she stopped for a second, she’d be caught. 

She was going to die. She didn’t want to die. 

She turned the corner, and her eyes narrowed towards the front door. Freedom was a few feet away, all she had to do was get out of there. She supported herself on the wall as she hopped towards the front door, when a fist closed in her hair, hauling her back as she lurched, her hands shooting up to pull at the arm that dragged her, screaming for them to let her go, to stop. She tried to pull away, but it only hurt. Everything hurt. She was forced over the kitchen counter, the fist held firmly against the back of her head as she heard the slow scrape of a knife being pulled from the wooden block they were kept in. She cried out as her head was turned to the side, kept stiffly against the hard countertop. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she choked out sobs, squeezing her eyes shut to brace herself. She felt the fist against the back of her head relax slightly to adjust their grip, but Peggy seized the opportunity, slipping away and shoulder barging her attacker to send them careening into the fridge, the sound of its contents being shaken around echoing into the kitchen.

Peggy felt like she was the luckiest girl alive at that moment, she’d narrowly escaped death twice, and she knew if she was caught again that would be it. She took a right in the hallway, opting to escape out the back door and break out into the yard, making an escape into the night. She wiped her tears with her sleeve, staggering toward the door, the pain of standing becoming unbearable. The large glass door stood between her and the backyard, she took hold of the door handle and heard the lock click, her eyes heavily drifting back up to look out into the darkness, clocking the eerie smiling mask reflected behind her. 

The gloved fist closed on the back of her head, and Peggy’s face was forced through the glass, the sheer pain of the shards and fragments ripping open her delicate facial tissue brutally, shattered edges of double-glazed window pane lodged in her face. She could feel her breath quickening as she tumbled to the patio floor, landing hard on her shoulder and falling onto her back. She fought to keep her eyes open, staring up at her attacker as he loomed over her, the knife gripped tightly in his hand. She could feel the light fading from her eyes as she watched him kneel over her, his body weight surprisingly lighter than she had expected. 

In her final moments, Peggy took a sharp inhalation of breath and screamed into the darkness,

“ _ Angelica! Eliza! _ ” She pulled it from the core of her being, her throat ripped raw as she tried to reach someone, anyone. The masked killer silenced Peggy swiftly, driving the knife up through her jaw and into her head, the taste of metal and blood leaving her body awash with a cold chill as she gargled on her blood, her eyes wide as she stared up at the mask. 

Silence passed over them as Peggy died underneath him, and as he slowly pulled the knife from the wound, a car door slammed shut around at the front of the house.

“I told you, Boston University is ideal for you Eliza,” Philip Schuyler lectured as he led his family up the steps to the front door of the house, Eliza rolling her eyes as she followed him, “They have the leading career stats in Psychology, surely that should speak to you.” 

Eliza pushed by her father, unlocking the front door with a grumble, 

“Dad, I know, but I wanted to… Go a little further afield,” She tried to reason, setting her keys down and turning to him, “There’s so much more to our country than just New England.”

Angelica hung up her coat, smiling as she moved into the house,

“Peggy? You awake?” She called, pursing her lips as she had no response. She turned, her eyes landing on the open door of the sitting room, “Peggy?” She called again, Eliza still discussing her future with her father and mother.

She turned the corner into the sitting room, stepping back as she felt the crunch of glass under her feet,

“Wh…” She muttered to herself, trailing her eyes across the room to the shattered window, her heart leaping to her throat, “ _ Peggy? _ ” She called again, this time more frantic, garnering the attention of her family.

“Where is she?” Eliza broke away from their parents, moving into the doorway of the sitting room only to be pushed aside by her elder sister, who quickly walked to the kitchen, the fridge surrounded by a pool of spilled milk, her heart racing. Philip tried the phone line, flicking the lights before he turned to his wife, handing her her coat and the car keys, 

  
“Catherine, go to the Jeffersons,” He urged her, the realisation washing over her face, “The electricity is out here but they should be fine, call the police,” His tone was urgent, Catherine beginning to shake her head,

“No, no, not my baby,” She whimpered, Philip guiding her out the front door. Angelica and Eliza searching the house desperately, calling out for their baby sister, the sisters regrouping in the hallway. Angelica looked around, her heart racing,

“Where could she be?!” She exclaimed, Eliza staring ahead into the back room, her lip trembling as a single tear tumbled down her cheek,

“Angelica,  _ look _ ,” She winced, pointing to the back door. Angelica turned to look over her shoulder, and the sound that came out of her would be described by her sister to the police as ‘a scream of pure anguish’ as the sisters looked at their beloved Peggy’s lifeless body, hanging in the shattered frame of the back door, Angelica falling to the ground as she wailed, Eliza frozen in a state of shock as the blood slowly dripped from the wound in Peggy’s chin to the soft plush carpeting of the back room.

  * • •



The authorities were able to keep a lid on the events of that night, the police arrived at the scene and took the family in for questioning. Upon examination, Margarita ‘Peggy’ Schuyler’s death was ruled as ‘suspicious’ and that the police were ‘looking into potential leads’. The news of Peggy’s murder didn’t get out until the following morning, after Catherine Van Rensselaer had broken down in the Jefferson’s front room the night before and their son Thomas had heard everything, he’d texted damn near the entire school. 

The following morning at Andrew Jackson High, the series of events that was about to unfold would change the town forever.

It was only a matter of time before the kill count got a new addition.

  
  



	2. Suspension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy's friends begin to collectively share their grief, and as news of a candlelight vigil for the youngest Schuyler sister spreads around the town, the killer sets their plan in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is proving to be a lot more fun to write than I had anticipated. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and once again comment, kudos and bookmarks are greatly appreciated!!

The schoolyard was littered with press that morning, each reporter and journalist hunting for their pound of flesh, to dig their claws into Peggy’s distraught classmates, to dig up any sort of sob story about her that they could spin a story out of. 

A small group of teenagers stood collected together across the street, watching the reporters flock like gangrenous pigeons, spreading their disease of fear and scaremongering. Thomas Jefferson smirked, running a hand up against his tight curls, he was a leader, a brash personality with a headstrong attitude,

“The circus is definitely in town, folks,” He began to chuckle, but was elbowed harshly in the ribs by John Laurens, who stood beside him, a more controlled counterpart to his friend, a forward-thinker, he was a passionate soul,

“No thanks to you, jackass,” John scowled, hugging his textbooks to his chest, “I can’t believe Peggy’s…”

The group shared a unanimous silence, before John spoke again, 

“Has anyone seen Angie or Liz?” He glanced at his friends, Maria Reynolds shaking her head as she continued scrolling through an endless cycle of doomsayers and gossip on her socials. Maria was tough, a firecracker, naturally maternal to her friends. She locked her phone and slid it into her back pocket, folding her arms,

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing them for a few days,” She was firm in her tone, before she softened slightly, “I heard they found the body,” She winced, eyes lowering to the ground, “I don’t even wanna think about how they’re feeling.”

James Madison hugged an arm around her, pulling her close into his side,

“Lighten up, Maria,” He jested, “Let them be the ones to grieve, she wasn’t our sister.”

Maria shoved James aside quickly, suddenly fiery,

“You can be such a dick, y’know that?” She moved away from the group in an angry stride, John chasing after her to calm her down. James frowned, oblivious to his tactless blunder. He was a joker in the pack, emotionally stunted. Thomas clenched his jaw, pushing James’ shoulder,

“The hell was that for?” He asked sternly, “Peggy was our friend, and she’s dead, don’t you have an ounce of remorse?”

James stumbled, his knee jerk reaction to have pushed Thomas back, but he took a cooling breath, raising his hands in surrender, knowing that his friend was right. Thomas turned to Alexander, the final of the five, an intellectual with a passion for literature, but often too trusting, an adopted child. Thomas ducked slightly to meet Alexander’s eye line, their eyes meeting suddenly in a clash of golden brown,

“What’s on your mind, Ham?” He asked, Alexander swallowing the lump in his throat slowly, a hand rising to rub the back of his neck nervously,

“I dunno guys, I just,” He usually had no trouble finding the words to say, but today was different, “It’s just crazy to think she’s gone, she sat next to me in English.”

“Not anymore,” James grinned, wincing as Thomas punched him in the arm, recoiling with a huff. Thomas placed a hand delicately on Alexander’s shoulder, squeezing it with reassurance,

“I heard they’re offering grief counseling, if you want I could walk you there?” He smiled, Alexander shaking his head as he pulled away from his hand,

“I’m okay, thanks, I’m gonna get to class,” He rushed the words, and broke into a light jog as he broke away from the group. Thomas watched him go with a sigh, stretching to rest his hands behind his head,

“This is so fucked up,” He muttered to himself.

  * • •



The day’s classes were run as normal, a decision made by the higher-ups to promote a sense of unity and corroboration of the idea that ‘life goes on’, which even in itself was distasteful beyond belief. The main divergence from normality was the constant cherry picking of students from their classes, taken one by one over the course of the day to be questioned by the detectives on the case of Peggy’s murder. 

The lunch bell rang and students were released into the wilderness of the school hallways, Alexander pausing at the door of his english classroom to glance back, Peggy’s desk and chair totally untouched, almost frozen in time. He shrugged his bag higher up onto his shoulder and took to the linoleum floors of the hall, dodging passing students as he made a bee-line for the door to the quad, knowing his friends would be there. 

And there they were, joined now by two more classmates; Gilbert ‘Lafayette’ Motier and Hercules Mulligan, two male students from John Laurens’ history class. Lafayette was handsome, athletic, wholesomely naive. Hercules was artistic, a lover not a fighter. Alexander greeted them as he sat down at the table, slinging his bag to join the pile underneath them. Maria was still scrolling aimlessly through her phone, actively avoiding meeting James’ eyeline as she doomscrolled,

“There’s some major press talking about Peggy’s death,” She deadpanned, before setting her phone down and addressing the group, “I can’t understand why the police are here questioning us instead of shutting down those vultures out the front.”

John folded his arms close to his chest, a worried look in his eyes, 

“What questions did they ask you guys?” His focus flitted from person to person, not meeting their eyes. The entire situation had him on edge, the reality having set in long ago that Peggy was indeed gone forever. 

“They asked me if I watched a lot of horror movies,” Thomas piped up as he tossed the remaining chunk of sandwich into his mouth, chewing loudly as he dusted the crumbs off his hands, “Apparently the crime scene was pretty gory, like something from a slasher movie.”

“Seriously?” Maria frowned, pulling a compact mirror and her favourite red lipstick from her bag, “Who even blames the media anymore, next they’ll be asking if you play a lot of video games.” She muttered, before beginning to touch up her immaculate makeup. Alexander shifted in his seat as he unpacked his lunch, before fixing his glasses as he spoke,

“They asked me the same question, and if I was into DIY.” He relayed to the group, attempting to quietly unwrap his food as the group discussed. Hercules cocked an eyebrow, shifting his attention from the group of girls on the next table to Alexander,

“DIY? Why?” He asked Alexander, who only shrugged in response. Hercules rested his hands on the table, lips pursed, “The horror movie question is weird though, what kind of boomer is running this investigation?”

“Detective Washington,” John answered quickly enough, “Apparently he’s from down south, Virginia way,” He had relaxed slightly knowing that the others had been asked similar questions, feeling slightly less like he had a target on his back, “But I can’t blame them for asking a question like that, movies have been shown to influence actions in the past. One kid got murdered by two other kids after they watched a horror movie.”

“They were kids,” Maria retorted, tossing her lipstick back into her bag, “We’re practically adults?”

“True,” Thomas threw his hat into the ring, “But horror exists in so many different forms nowadays, you’ve got movies, comics, even TV shows are taking a crack at the horror genre, especially  _ slashers _ .”

Maria laughed incredulously, picking up her phone to begin scrolling again,

“Next you’ll be telling me people write slasher fan fiction.” She jeered with heavy sarcasm, her eyes wide with exaggeration.

“Indeed they do,” Thomas smirked, knowing he’d caught Maria off guard, “Slasher exists in a myriad of mediums, and fanfiction is on the up,” He nodded knowingly, sitting back with his hands behind his head as the group fell silent to listen to him, “Sure, slasher movies are great, but they’re over so quickly. With TV shows and comics, the visual information can be digested slowly, you’re met with a cast of new and colourful characters, you fall in love with them, but in fanfiction,” He sat forward, a spark in his eyes, “You already know them. You already love them, so you’re constantly waiting, praying to find out if your favourite gets the axe, but if and when they do,” His voice fell to a hushed whisper, “It  _ hurts _ .”

James rolled his eyes, standing,

“Jeez, Thomas,” He mumbled, “Way to get the party started.”

Alexander had watched Thomas through his analysis, his glasses sliding gingerly to the tip of his nose. He hadn’t even realised he’d stopped eating, fascinated by the discussion Thomas had brought to the table.

He didn’t even know Thomas could start discussions like that. He didn’t know that Thomas could  _ think  _ like that. 

Alexander was broken from his daze as Lafayette poked his glasses back up for him, snickering,

“Careful ‘amilton,” He spoke with his deliciously thick french accent, “If the wind changes you’ll be stuck like that.” His playful words caused Alexander to blush, shaking his head as he quickly began to eat his lunch, Lafayette turning to Thomas,

“So, if this were a slasher fanfiction, who’s next to die?” He dropped the bombshell on the table, Maria shooting him a look of total disdain, Hercules loudly protesting to the discussion. Thomas, however, met Lafayette’s question with confidence,

  
“It’s impossible to tell,” He replied simply, “But in slasher fanfiction, a fan favourite can be early shock factor.”

  * • •



“Are you coming to the candlelight vigil for Peggy tonight?” Maria asked John as they walked out of the school, the news vans having dispersed slightly, a handful of stragglers remaining in their desperate attempts to get some semblance of a story. John dug into his pocket to find his car keys, shrugging his shoulders

“I dunno,” He replied quietly, “It still doesn’t feel… Real.” He couldn’t admit it, but he just didn’t want to accept that it was real. Maria smiled softly, rubbing John’s arm,

“I know you and Peggy were close, this can’t be easy for you.” 

John’s heart burned with grief, but he didn’t want to let it show. He brushed Maria’s hand off with a gentle smile,

“I’ll be there tonight, you want me to pick you up?” He jangled his car keys between them, causing Maria to laugh playfully,

“I’d love that. I’ll text you the details.” She called back to him as she jogged for the bus, waving goodbye. John pulled out his phone, his smile quickly fading as he read a next from Peggy’s number.

“ _ Hey Johnboy, missing your girlfriend? _ ” 

He felt like his heart stopped, a shot of adrenaline surging through his veins as he made to grab someone, anyone, to tell them Peggy’s killer had her phone. His phone buzzed, another text coming in,

“ _ Make any sudden moves and pretty Miss Reynolds gets the chop, get it? _ ”

John could taste his heart in his throat, a sweat breaking out above his brow. Fingers trembling, he texted back,

“ _ Why are you doing this? _ ”

The killer texted back almost instantaneously, as if predicting John’s message,

“ _ You don’t get to ask questions Johnboy. I hope you’re ready for the vigil tonight, it’s gonna be gut-wrenching. _ ”

John shakily slid his phone into his bagt, looking quickly over his shoulder at the stream of students that passed him by, dozens of them on their phones, and his heart raced as realisation dawned that it could be anybody.

_ Anybody _ .

He opened his car door and threw his bag on the passenger seat, a sinking feeling wrapped around his gut, his hands resting on the steering wheel tightly. He’d been on edge all day as it was, but now he felt on the verge of a panic attack. Peggy’s killer had her phone, which meant that they had access to everything. Peggy’s texts, her social media, her pictures, everything. He exhaled slowly, glancing at his bag on the seat beside him. He had no idea what the killer was planning, but he had nothing but bad feelings about it.

He started the engine and turned the radio on loud, turning out of the parking lot away from the direction of town, wanting to just drive aimlessly for a while, to clear his head.

  * • •



Meanwhile, across town, Eliza sat outside the police station, waiting patiently for Angelica to finish questioning. They’d both been at the station since that morning, cycling in and out for questioning as more lines of inquiry opened up. The police hadn’t been able to find Peggy’s phone, and they hadn’t been able to figure out quite why the electricity had been cut. Eliza had tried to answer the questions as best she could, but Angelica’s wailing sobs were still ringing in her ears, the image of Peggy’s dead body was burned into her eyelids, no matter how hard she tried to forget it. 

She couldn’t comprehend _ why _ . Why would someone murder Peggy? As far as Eliza was aware, she hadn’t been involved in any sort of illegal activities, she’d never pissed anyone off enough to warrant such violent revenge, it just didn’t add up. She unlocked her phone, resting her arms on her thighs as she scrolled through the seemingly endless swarm of condolences and empty prayers for the family. 

The vigil that night hadn’t been planned by the family, strangely enough. A random blank account on social media had whipped up a storm about how the school was doing nothing to grieve the loss of a student, so the town had to do something themselves. One thing led to another, and soon the entire town was due to show up, like it was some sort of festival. It churned Eliza’s stomach to think her sister’s death was nothing more than publicity, just a tick in some american statistic about violence towards women. She shuddered, shaking off the sudden chill that ran up her spine. There was an ominous wind in the air, like she was being watched. She stood, sticking her hands in her pockets before walking back into the station.

  * • •



Hercules panted heavily as he came to a steady stop on the treadmill, sweat trickling down his face and neck, his tank top suitably stained from his excessive workout. He pulled his earbuds out, glancing over his shoulder around the gym. He was the only one left, the rest of the team were probably at the diner or something. He pulled his phone from his pocket, beginning to text Lafayette about their location when his phone began to ring. It was an unknown number. Herc tapped the answer button, raising his phone to his ear,

“Y’ello?” He asked, slinging a towel around his neck. 

“Hello Herc,” The hoarse metallic voice spoke back, “Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could ask a few questions.”

Hercules frowned, making his way to the locker room, 

“Depends who’s asking,” He replied cautiously, coming to a halt at his locker, “Who is this?”

“A friend,” The voice chimed back, “Don’t worry about the details, Herc, it’ll all be hanging in plain sight pretty soon. What’s the deal with Peggy’s murder, huh?”

“Dude,” Hercules scoffed, unlocking his locker, “What’s the deal with the voice filter? You sound like-”

“Like a movie villain?” The voice cut him off, chuckling, “I get that a lot. It’d be pretty cool to be in a movie though.”

Hercules hauled his gym bag heavily onto the bench, laughing along with his caller,

“True say, true say,” He replied, “But what movie?”

“I’m pretty into the horror genre myself,” The voice purred, “You watch many horror movies?”

“Nah, man,” Hercules snickered quietly, “I don’t fuck with horror movies.”

“Too scared?” The voice had a slight mocking twinge to it, a venomous rasp lingering in his words. Hercules laughed, shaking his head as he unzipped his bag,

“It’s just not realistic. There’s only so many times Michael Myers can survive death, right? Man’s basically immortal,” He began to take his gym clothes off, taking his fresh clothes out the bag, “It’s kinda stupid.”

“Peggy liked horror movies,” The voice mocked all too casually, “Guess she got to live in her favourite genre.”

Hercules paused, frowning as he stepped out of his shorts,

“Not cool, chief,” He bent down to pick up the discarded clothing, grunting, “You gonna ask these questions or not?”

“The real question is, Hercules,” The tone was dark and menacing, “Should you really be alone in the school gym with a killer on the loose?”

Hercules halted, midway through putting on his fresh clothes, buttoning up the jeans as he adjusted his grip on his phone,

“Are you stalking me?” He asked, looking around the locker room. The caller exhaled slowly, before laughing,

“You could say I’m gathering intel. That’s what I did with Peggy.”

Hercules’ neck tensed, his jaw clenching as he backed up to his locker, looking around the room,

“What are you talking about you sick  _ fuck _ .”

“She was a feisty one, managed to escape me a couple times before I eventually got her through the window,” The caller purred, “She liked horror movies so much I thought she deserved to live one.”

“You’re a evil,  _ evil  _ son of a bitch,” Hercules was shaking with a mixture of fear and rage, beginning to bubble under the surface.

“The little bitch deserved it,” The voice snarled. Herc shook his head, puffing out his chest and standing proud, looking around,

“You’re a psychopath. What’s the plan then, huh? You gonna  _ kill me _ ?” He beat on his chest, figuring that if his caller could see him, acting like an action movie macho-hardass might scare them off, “Come on then you fuck, come and get me.”

The caller was silent, Hercules waiting for his response. His breathing began to slow, and he held the phone close to his ear,

“This isn’t a movie, this is real life. You want to play psycho killer? Do it on your own fucking time.” He hissed, hanging up and throwing his phone into his bag. He pulled the zip and lifted it over his shoulder, muttering to himself as he exited the locker room. He couldn’t believe that some horror geek had the nerve to try and fuck with him like that.

Hercules turned the corner into the gym, coming face-to-face with another person, clad entirely in black save for the creepy fencing mask they wore, the haunting smiley face staring back at him across the room, a knife held tightly in their gloved hand. Hercules felt his entire body tense, taking staggered steps back as the masked killer approached. 

“You motherfucker,” Hercules tossed his bag aside, adrenaline pumping through him, “Let’s go.”

He charged his attacker, wrapping his arms around their waist and slamming them into a wall, breaking away and punching them clean across the face. The killer took the hit, swinging their knife wildly in Herc’s direction, narrowly dodging each slice. Hercules took another swing, the killer catching his fist in their hand and cutting a deep slice into his forearm. Hercules hissed in pain, his free hand shooting up to hold the wound as blood began to flow freely from the open cut, tumbling back. The killer regained their stance, and lunged for Herc, both of them tumbling to the floor in their struggle. Hercules found himself on his back with the killer above him, weapon poised and ready to strike. He grabbed their torso, feeling a padding underneath the black hoodie they wore, before he managed to throw them to the side, staggering to his feet. 

“ _ Fuck you _ !” He yelled, looking back at his attacker and missing his footing, stumbling over the multigym unit the athletes of the school used to train their lats, the heavy weights suspended in the air by the cable pulley. He hit his head hard on the floor, his vision blurring as he became concussed. He groaned loudly in his dazed state, attempting to push himself to his feet but ultimately failing. He felt hands gripping his shirt by the shoulders, and he was dragged ever so slightly to the side, before he was rolled onto his back. His vision began to normalise, the blurred shape in front of him becoming the killer’s mask as they bent over him. He stared up at the crude smiling face, and spat a thick glob of saliva at it, his eyes narrowed. They stared at each other in the silence, until the killer stood straight, revealing the suspended weights of the lateral trainer hovering dangerously above Herc’s head. He opened his mouth to scream, but the cord was cut and the weights plummeted down, shattering his teeth on impact and pulverising his skull, Hercules’ blood and brains splattering the space around them as he was killed instantly. The killer drew their knife once more, and crouched down by the body to begin severing Herc’s head from his body. 

They weren’t finished with him yet.

  
  
  



	3. The Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The killer drops a surprise for the group, and John's past is under threat of being exposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a liiittle while longer to write than I wanted, but I hope you all enjoy it! As always, comments, bookmarks and kudos are much appreciated!!
> 
> TW; Gore, vomit and shock

John drove and drove until he was almost out of gas, eventually pulling up to park outside his house. He still had an hour until he had to collect Maria, so he figured he could get in a shower before the vigil. He wanted to make a good impression on Peggy’s family, even if he didn’t get the chance to…

He shook the creeping feeling off his shoulders, got out the car and went into the empty house, straight up to his room. He threw his bag on the bed and sat heavily in his desk chair, burying his head in his hands. He looked at his bag, remembering the texts he’d received from Peggy’s phone. He fished about inside, pulling out his phone and scrolling through the texts from the night before.

“ _ My family won’t be back until late ;) _ ” Peggy had texted, to which John replied,

“ _ I’ll be right over _ ;P”

But he didn’t go over. He never went near the house, he’d gone to stop at a gas station on the way to the Schuyler’s house and forgotten his card at the house, but by the time he’d gotten home he’d had the text from Thomas about what he’d overheard from his parents. 

The facts were he’d been out of the house at the time of Peggy’s murder, and had nobody to account for him. He had no defense in the eyes of the law. He set his phone aside, tying his hair up into a top-knot to rid himself of the itching on the back of his neck. He sat back in his chair, jolting slightly as his phone began to ring.

It was from Peggy’s phone. He picked up, swallowing thickly,

“Hello?”

“Reminiscing on old times?” The killer taunted, wasting no time in his approach, “I always knew you were the sensitive type, Johnboy.”

“Why did you do it,” John tried to be assertive, but the throbbing sensation in the back of his head pummelled his nerves, “Why did you kill her?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” The killer purred, “Just like the cops wouldn’t understand where you  _ really  _ were last night.”

John’s body felt tight, his shoulders and back tense and firm as the killer read him like a book,

“What are you saying? Are you blackmailing me?” He asked, a nervous quiver on his lips. The killer snickered, quick to react,

“You’re a lot smarter than you look, Johnboy. You do what I ask and the cops don’t get hold of the phone, deal?”

John’s stomach felt like lead, a sweat on his brow as he sat back in his desk chair. He didn’t have a choice, if he was honest. 

“What do you want me to do?” He said at last, entirely reluctant but his defensive stance had crumbled immediately. 

“You’ll be on standby for when I need you,” The killer instructed firmly, “Fail to comply with my demands and your little MIA stunt will be a convenient anonymous tip.”

John closed his eyes, the knot in his throat to hard to swallow,

“Fine.”

“Good boy.” The killer cut the line dead, and John slowly lowered his phone down to the desk. His stomach growled, and he felt the rising sensation in his chest. He clambered from his chair and raced to the bathroom, throwing his head over the toilet basin and vomiting, the buildup of tension from the day finally proving too much. He coughed up the remainder of his lunch and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, shuddering. 

He hated this. If he hadn’t almost made that stop… He could have saved Peggy. He could have stopped all of this.

He pulled the flush and stood at the sink, brushing his teeth to rid the acidic feel from his mouth. He knew a shower wouldn’t totally remove the worry and dread from his mind, but he could try. He turned on the hot water, undressed himself and got inside, allowing the water to run over his skin. He closed his eyes as he stopped in the moment, allowing the sensation to calm his senses, his muscles slowly relaxing. 

He could breathe again, just for a moment. 

  * • •



Eliza sat in the back of the car, staring emptily out the window at the sunset, shaken from her daydream as Angelica took her hand, leaning across,

“You okay, Eliza?” She asked quietly, Eliza turning to look at her and forcing a delicate smile,

“Are  _ you  _ okay?” She asked back, Angelica’s eyes dimming slightly as she withdrew her hand, placing them in her lap with a soft sigh,

“I’m not okay,” She replied, looking down at her hands, “Alexander texted me, he asked if we wanted to meet the others before the vigil.” 

Eliza turned her head to look back out the window, watching the buildings and cars go by as she cast her mind to her friends. She was caught between love and anger, because no matter how much she loved her friends, things would never be the same without Peggy there with them. She’d prepared some words for the vigil, but the butterflies in her stomach begged her not to go. She had nothing but a bad feeling about that night, a bad vibe had crept up her back. Angelica shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the pair sitting in silence as they approached the town square. 

The crowd of vigil-participants spanned the entire square, signs held up high adorned with pictures of Peggy, smiling and happy, before she was cruelly taken from them. The outskirts of the square was littered with press vans, each of them prepped and primed to get the  _ perfect  _ shot of the potential tearjerker. The car came to a stop, and the sisters got out, Angelica immediately calling the group to ascertain their location. Eliza kept her hands in her jacket pocket, a lurch in her stomach as she scanned the encroaching horde of reporters as they pulled passerbys in for random interviews about Peggy and the effect on the town. It made her sick, the way these random people cried and wailed and tweeted about their grief,  _ they didn’t even know Peggy _ . Angelica took her hand, leading her into the swarm of townsfolk, their friends having gathered near the speaker’s podium beside the collection of hundreds of candles. 

Thomas stood beside Alexander and James, with John, Maria and Lafayette stood not far from them as the sisters approached. Lafayette pursed his lips at his phone, having sent almost six texts to Hercules about his location, 

“I don’t know what his game is,” He mused, locking his phone and slotting it in his pocket, “But ‘erc isn’t replying to any of my messages.”

“Did he not come to the diner?” Maria asked as she emptily looked across the crowd of people, hands folded close to her chest. Lafayette shook his head, a frown playing on his lips,

“Non,” He replied shortly, “He was in Lit, but I haven’t seen him since.”

John swallowed thickly as he stood beside them in silence, a gnawing feeling in his stomach as he replayed his conversation with the killer over and over in his head. He wasn’t even listening to Maria and Lafayette’s conversation, he was displaced in his own mind staring out into nothingness. 

Angelica put on a bright smile as she stood before her friends, already feeling choked up,

“I can’t tell you all how much it means for you guys to be here,” She could feel her eyes burning, welling up with tears almost immediately. Thomas stepped out and took her into a warm hug, resting his head atop hers,

“Hey, we’re here for you guys  _ and  _ Peggy. She’d want us all to be together.” He reassured, Angelica hugging him back tightly as she nodded, Eliza placing a hand delicately on her back. She couldn’t deny she was uneasy, but she had a lot to say tonight. She had to get her feelings out publicly. She looked up at the speaker’s podium, the small raised platform topped with a large backdrop, a thick roll of fabric tied up at the top of the frame. Eliza frowned, looking to the group,

“What’s with the tapestry?” She asked, Maria shrugging as she followed Eliza’s gaze up,

“It was already set up when we got here, probably someone from Town Hall trying to make the place look good after, well, y’know…” She trailed off, Alexander nudging her in the side swiftly. Eliza’s eyes narrowed at the rolled up fabric, but she brushed aside her concerns as part of her unease regarding the entire event. Angelica broke from Thomas’ hug, and dabbed her eyes with her sleeves,

“Regardless, thanks everyone for coming,” She smiled as she scanned her friends’ faces, before pausing, “Where’s Hercules?” She asked. Lafayette raised his hand, quickly jumping in,

  
“We don’t know,” He answered honestly, “I’ve texted him, but no response.”

Angelica glanced to the others, all of whom either shrugged or shook their heads, or both in James’ case, and she sighed, her smile halfway returning, 

“I’m sure he’s just busy, probably with that Dolly girl from class.” She laughed quietly, shaking off her worry and turning to look at the crowd of townsfolk, “Guess they’re waiting for us to get started, sis,” She placed a hand on Eliza’s shoulder, “Do you want me to go first?”   
  
Eliza nodded, giving a soft ‘please’ under her breath as she looked at the crowd. She had never felt such an intense conflict of emotions as she observed the sea of faces, feeling not only a deep gratitude for them all being present, but also a burning resentment for every single person who had shown up, just so they could tag themselves in pictures or tweet about how sad they were. Angelica nodded, and walked up the podium as the group gathered at the front of the crowd. She tapped the mic to get the attention of the crowd, the town square falling silent as she addressed them, her nerves tingling from the tip of her ponytail to the point of her finely manicured fingernails. 

“Hi,” She opened, a nervous laugh escaping her, “Hello, uh, thank you all for coming tonight, I’m sure you all know me, but I’m Angelica,” Her breath hitched, “Peggy’s oldest sister. Peggy was taken from us not even twenty four hours ago, so to see this kind of event already happening is heartwarming for my entire family.” She placed her hand to her chest. She continued on to speak to the crowd about Peggy’s life and her achievements at school, and the friends who adored her. 

Throughout Angelica’s speech, the group of friends below were lost in their individual thoughts, Eliza lost as to the futility of the situation, John feeling a constant chill remembering his deal with the killer. Alexander shuddered, tucking his arms close to his chest as he felt a cold wind blow. Thomas looked down at him, and slid his jacket off his shoulders, placing it around his smaller friend with a gentle smile. Alexander felt his chest tighten, and he whispered his thanks to Thomas quietly, the taller man sticking his hands in his pockets nonchalantly with a smug grin. Maria elbowed Eliza in the side lightly, leaning in close to whisper,

“Are you okay?”

Eliza nodded, forcing a simple smile as she refocused on Angelica, who was nearing the end of her prepared speech. Lafayette pulled his phone out again, texting Hercules now with severe frustration at his wingman’s absence. Angelica bowed her head as she finished her speech, thanking the crowd once more before passing off the mic to Eliza as she climbed up to the platform, her hands clenched tightly into fists in her pockets. The sisters shared a look, before Angelica reluctantly climbed down into the crowd, standing with their friends.

Eliza exhaled slowly as she looked over her audience, feeling more like a public execution rather than a public vigil for her dead sister.

“Hello,” She opened, much colder than her sister, “I’d like to echo my sister’s thanks to my friends for coming, but I can’t say I share her feelings about the rest of you.”   
  
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and Angelica winced, looking to the floor. She knew Eliza had prepared a somewhat more…  _ Abrasive  _ speech, but she still didn’t want to listen to it. 

Eliza continued, becoming slightly more assertive,

“I would like to address the press. How  _ dare  _ you speak about my sister the way you do,” Her tone was pointed, and intensely passionate, “You didn’t know her. And the peanut gallery who weep and wail on Instagram and TikTok,” She seethed, “Just because you knew someone, whose cousin was in the same class as my sister,  _ does not mean it could have been you _ .” She directed the comments with a venom, the crowd’s response becoming more vocal as people began to talk loudly to each other, some shocked, some amused. Eliza continued to berate the townsfolk for their selfishness in the wake of Peggy’s death, and Lafayette broke from the group to try and call Hercules’ phone. It quickly rang out, but a text eventually came through.

“ _ I’m here :) _ ” The text from Hercules read, Lafayette’s blood rushing as he quickly texted back,

“ _ Where??? _ ”

Eliza gestured grandly to the large backdrop behind her, 

“And what the  _ fuck  _ is all this about?” She asked, her emotions overwhelming her, “This town has done all of this for my sister, but has done  _ nothing  _ to try to find her killer,” She took steps back, and grabbed the cord tightly in her fist, “It’s  _ sick _ !”

Lafayette looked up, his heart racing as he was caught between Eliza’s passionate speech and Hercules’ vague text. His phone dinged loudly as another text appeared on screen.

“ _ Right here _ ”

Lafayette frowned, looking up and around. Where was he?

Eliza pulled the cord, and the tapestry quickly unravelled, adorned with a beautiful smiling picture of Peggy; that was spattered with thick, red blood. The tapestry hit the platform with a loud thud, and the crowd gasped in shock as Eliza was splattered with droplets of crimson, a decapitated body rolling forward to stop at her feet.

She screamed, staggering back and tumbling off the platform, James quickly jumping forward to catch her in his arms. The crowd broke out into a frenzied panic, the news reporters armed and ready with their cameras, capturing every single scene of the situation as chaos unfolded. The group huddled together, looking upon the stained memorial to Peggy, Eliza sobbing uncontrollably in James’ arms as he held her close, Lafayette hunched over, retching as they looked at the body, wearing Hercules’ clothes. 

John’s heart was pounding in his throat as he looked around, the panicked townsfolk scattering in every direction, the police attempting and ultimately failing to warden the frenzy. Nothing was safe. Nowhere was safe.  _ No one was safe _ . 

  * • •



“The situation unfolded dramatically, and continued on for what felt like hours,” The TV set droned on, Thomas setting down the stack of boxed pizzas and takeout food on the living room table, his friends scattered around the room in a mess of blankets, beer cans and various states of undress, “But what I can assure you of is this, the young people of this humble haven are more at risk than ever. This has been Aaron Burr with the eleven o’clock news, signing off.”

Thomas clicked the TV off, and sat down heavily beside Alexander, who lay curled up in a ball, cocooned in a thick blanket on the sofa. Angelica sat beneath him on the floor, running her fingers through her hair as she sighed heavily,

“What the fuck you guys.” She said at last. Eliza was upstairs in Thomas’ bed, she’d had a shower but there was still blood on her clothes, and Thomas’ mom had insisted she get some proper rest. 

Maria scrolled slowly on her phone, the LCD screen reflected in her honey-glow eyes,

“Twitter’s blown up with what happened,” She deadpanned, “People have made memes.”

Angelica groaned, resting her head back against the couch cushion. John was curled up on the armchair, his blanket pulled up over his mouth as he trembled lightly. He didn’t know what to do, but he couldn’t tell the others, they’d suspect him immediately… Right? He lowered the blanket, looking at the pizza boxes,

“I don’t think I can eat, you guys.” He winced. Thomas rested his arm over the back of the sofa, huffing with a soft smile,

“We can leave it ‘til tomorrow morning.” He replied, Alexander sitting up slightly with a soft grunt, fixing his glasses,

“We’re staying here tonight?” He asked, meeting Thomas’ warm gaze. He nodded, resting his hand gently on Alexander’s,

“There is  _ no way  _ you guys are going anywhere, not after what we went through tonight.”   
  
Angelica pulled her hair from her ponytail, her heart heavy as she slid the hair tie over her delicate wrist,

“I’ve seen two dead bodies in twenty four hours,” She muttered, before laughing as she lay her head back again, “Two dead bodies, what is my life?”

“There’s one thing that bothers me,” James suddenly piped up from across the room, the group turning their heads to look at him, Maria frowning with concern,

“Just  _ one _ ?” She asked, James shaking his head,

“Besides everything else,” He muttered, before leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs, “The body… It was wearing Hercules’ clothes, right?” He asked, the group sharing glances between them before agreeing to James’ statement. James nodded, clasping his hands together, “We’re ninety nine percent sure it’s Herc in the body bag, but… Where was his head? If this killer wanted to make a spectacle, why hide the head?”

John felt the knot in his throat bulge as he listened, he pulled the blanket up to his mouth again, seeking comfort as he too wondered where Hercules’ head was, and how the killer was going to use it. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he carefully slid under the blanket as the group continued to chat away, pulling his phone out to check the message. 

A message from Peggy’s phone, with a picture attached, and against his better judgement he tapped it open, loading to reveal Hercules’ mangled head staring back at him, his mouth mutilated beyond recognition, his nose crushed flat to his face and one of his eyeballs ruptured, leaving only a deep red, almost black, indentation in its place. His stomach tightened, and he felt the bile shoot up his throat once more. He closed the image quickly, deleting it almost instantly as he forced the vomit back down, exhaling shakily. 

“ _ Herc isn’t looking so good, Johnboy, won’t you tell him he’s still pretty _ ?” The text read, mocking John even through the cellular network. John went to lock his phone, but the image was sent repeatedly, unflinchingly popping up on his screen every time he struggled to delete it, until a text followed in,

“ _ You can’t erase the past, Johnboy, you have to live with things. Delete the pic again, and you’ll be facing police questioning. _ ”

He froze under the blanket, and the pulsing in the back of his head quickly became a painful throbbing sensation, his phone slipping from his grip into his lap as he held his head, hiding under the blanket as he forced himself to stay silent. 

He wanted things to get better. He needed things to get better.

If only they knew that this was only the beginning. Two bodies in the pile, but the kill count was only ever going to rise. Detective Washington would no doubt want to talk to them all, and news reporter Aaron Burr was lingering in the background, watching the group and documenting the bereavement of the town. 

Things could only get worse.

  
  



	4. Graduation or Death?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza has a shocking revelation as a romance begins to blossom between two of our potential victims, and a roving reporter starts to stick his nose where it doesn't belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW's this round, but as always comments, bookmarks and kudos are much appreciated! Happy slashing!

“So you’re sure it’s Hercules Mulligan’s body?” Detective George Washington asked as he stood beside the body, sprawled out on the examination table of the county morgue. The Coroner, a man by the name of Charles Lee, nodded stiffly,

“Fingerprints are a match, it’s all we have to go off of considering we can’t compare dental records.” He replied, George running his eyes across the decapitated teenager before him, the smell of the formaldehyde causing his eyes to water slightly.

“Do we have any leads into the location of the head?” He inquired, Charles shaking his head in response as he pulled a sheet over the body,

“None. Whoever did this knows what they’re doing, even if we don’t know why.” He muttered to himself, taking a step back and standing straight. George furrowed his brow, pondering the situation with what he knew thus far. 

Two teenagers, both belonging to the same friendship group, dead. The connection existed, he just didn’t know what the  _ connection  _ was. He thanked Charles for his time, and left the building to return to the town station. He needed to make some calls to the school, and some calls to the parents of these kids. 

Something wasn’t adding up. 

  * • •



Eliza sat in the chair of the school counsellor’s office, her eyes vacant and dim. She hadn’t even been able to get the image of Peggy’s body out of her head before Hercules’ body had been burned into her eyelids. Every time the images formed in her mind she could feel her heart race, anxiety coursing through her veins. She clenched her hands into fists in her lap, willing the images to fade away, even for a moment.

The grief counsellor was just a blur in front of her. They had become nothing more than a shape that spoke in a foreign language to her, it was all bullshit anyway. These ‘professionals’ studied their books and thought they knew everything, but they knew  _ nothing _ . 

Her sister was _dead_. She’d felt the blood of one of her closest friends on her own skin. _She could_ _still feel it_. 

The counsellor held out a pamphlet, detailing the effects of shock and bereavement on teenagers. Eliza wanted to scream, to rip up the pamphlet and shove it into their stupid, shit-talking mouth. She took it in her hand, and silently left the room, throwing it immediately in the closest trash can. She wanted the world to swallow her up, to just sink into the floor and never return. 

She dodged students in the hall, pushing open the door to the girl’s bathroom with her shoulder and heading inside. It was empty, the silence allowing Eliza a moment of peace as she came to a stop at the sinks, letting the water run as she hunched over the basin. She let the sound of the running water calm her nerves, closing her eyes to slow her breathing.

The moment of tranquility was important for Eliza. She felt her heartbeat normalise, the trembling sensation in her hands coming to a stop. She opened her eyes, looking up to meet her reflection, staring herself in the eyes as she saw the effects the last forty-eight hours had started to show on her, dark circles beginning to form around her puffy, red eyes, her lips were dry and chapped. She reached into her bag, taking the moment for herself as she brushed her hair, applied a touch of makeup and straightened out her clothes. 

She admired herself in the mirror, a gentle smile playing on her lips. Her heart ached at the thought of Peggy, but she knew that her beloved sister would want her to be happy, even if she wasn’t. She was midway through zipping up her bag when her phone began to ring, receiving a call from an unknown number. She tapped the answer button, raising it to her ear.

“Hello?” She asked, the sudden response of the coarse voice causing her to flinch,

“Good morning, Lizzie,” The voice spoke in a low purr, “You seem tense, is everything alright?”

Eliza felt her back straighten, looking over her shoulder slowly,

“Who is this?” She asked, sternly. The caller chuckled, his low tone causing the hairs on the back of Eliza’s neck to stand on end,

“I never get tired of hearing that question,” The voice was mocking, almost taunting, “Feeling a little on edge today? You sure were admiring yourself there…”

Eliza quickly turned, looking around the empty bathroom with wide eyes, the phone held to her ear. She had butterflies in her stomach, a nervous tension building in the back of her head,

“Whoever this is, you better  _ back off _ .” She warned, her hand resting on the sink basin behind her, “I’ve had enough shit to deal with.”

“I can’t help but feel like Peggy and Hercules have had it slightly tougher, Lizzie,” The voice snapped back, the mention of her sister’s name causing Eliza’s blood to run cold. She tapped her fingernails off the porcelain in irritation, gritting her teeth as she spoke,

“You have no right to talk about my sister,” She was stern, strong, “You didn’t even know her, you creep.”

“Oh, but I did,” The voice purred lowly, “I knew her very well, I was there when she died.”

Eliza shot up to attention, a spike of anxiety surging into her bloodstream as she clenched her jaw,

“What did you just say?” She was direct, the tension bubbling in her gut. The caller snickered, a deep growl in his voice,

“I was there. I  _ killed  _ her.”

A silence passed between them as Eliza stared ahead, her eyes dark. She took a shaky breath, raising the phone to speak again,

“ _ Fuck you _ .” She spat, hanging up and grabbing her bag, storming towards the bathroom door, throwing it open and breaking into a jog as she sped through the halls. She fought the tears that threatened in her eyes, eager to find her friends, dodging passing students as she escaped into the quad. 

Angelica raised her hand as she saw Eliza, waving her over to their lunch table with a bright smile. She sat back down as Eliza approached, seated with Lafayette and Alexander. Eliza sat beside them, still shaken from the call. Angelica’s smile fell slightly, resting a hand on her sister’s shoulder,

  
“Eliza, are you okay?” She asked, the question feeling like the only thing she had said to her sister in the last two days. Eliza kept her head down, staring at the table as she found the words.

“I just got a call… From some  _ psycho _ ,” She winced, the group suddenly jumping to attention, Lafayette leaning across the table to listen closer. Eliza exhaled slowly, composing herself to keep her voice to a whisper, “And he said he killed Peggy.”

Angelica squeezed Eliza’s shoulder suddenly, her eyes wide,

“He  _ what _ ?” She tried to keep herself quiet as well, “What else did he say?”   
  
“He didn’t say much else,” Eliza looked at her sister, her expression pained, “But… I feel like he was telling the truth. It was the  _ way  _ he said it.” She could feel a deep, burning anguish. She’d spoken with her sister’s killer, and all she could muster was a ‘fuck you’? 

She felt pathetic.

Lafayette rested his chin on his hands, deep in thought,

“Last night, at the vigil,” He began, the others turning to look at him, “I tried to text ‘ercules to find out where he was, and I got a text back,” He explained, having only really put it together in his own head in the aftershocks of seeing his best friend’s dead body splayed out in front of him, “I think the killer has his phone.”

  
  


Angelica sat back in her seat, her hands on her head as she sighed heavily,

“Fuck,” She muttered under her breath, her head spiralling with ideas, “The police couldn’t find Peggy’s phone at our house either, do you think whoevers doing this is collecting them?”

“I got a call from an unknown number,” Eliza added to the discussion, pulling her phone from her bag, “So it’s safe to bet they’ve got multiple phones.”

Alexander sat silently in the group, but inside he was  _ freaking out _ . The very concept that his friends were being killed caused his stomach to twist in knots. He went to speak, when he was interrupted by a deep voice over them.

“Good afternoon, kids,” Detective Washington stood over them, arms folded to his chest, “Am I interrupting anything?”   
  
“Detective Washington,” Angelica jumped to her feet, fixing her hair nervously, “No, no, you’re not interrupting. Can we help you?” She asked, suddenly very anxious in his presence.

George smiled, sliding his hands casually into his pockets,

“As a matter of fact, you can,” He nodded, “I’d like to talk to you all again, individually, regarding last night’s events.”

Eliza shuddered at the mention, the ghost feeling of blood splattered across her skin still lingering. She looked up at George, forcing a smile,

“Anything we can do to help, Detective. There’s nobody who wants this serial killer caught more than us.” 

George kept his hands in his pockets, chuckling,

“Not quite a serial killer yet, Ms Schuyler,” He nodded his head knowingly, “He’s got to pick off a few more before he gets that title. Right now it's a mass murderer.”

“They killed our sister. Does the name  _ actually  _ change anything?” Angelica asked, incredulously. George raised his hands in mock surrender, realising he needed to reassess his approach.

They were kids, but they were kids in a serious crisis. He took a step back, 

“I’ll be at the station until about eight tonight,” He smiled, “If any of you could drop by, I’ll be happy to take any information you might have.”

George walked away with a shred of confidence, leaving the small collection of friends to discuss what had just happened. They needed to be together as a collective, so Lafayette texted the others to arrange a meeting after school at his house. They had to regroup knowing what they knew, and that the killer had Peggy and Hercules’ phones, plus whatever phone or phones they’d got. 

  * • •



Alexander walked out of the school doors as the bell rang, his bag weighing heavily on his shoulders. He’d been feeling weird all day, his heart felt… Warm. His chest felt kinda tight, thinking back to the night before.

He’d slept in Thomas’ arms on the sofa, and he’d been warm. He’d felt safe. He remembered the feeling of Thomas’ chest rising and falling underneath him, the tingling sensation of his strong arms around him. Was his face getting hot? His glasses were fogged up. He took them off quickly, wiping them clean with the hem of his shirt. He slid them back on, his eyes adjusting to his surroundings quickly to discover a man approaching him.

“Alexander Hamilton?” The man asked, Alex retreating slightly as he saw the press badge pinned to his jacket, and the notepad clutched tightly in his fist, “Might I ask you a few questions?”   
  
“I’m not Alexander Hamilton,” Alex quickly replied, eyes shooting side to side frantically as he tried to spot his escape route, he did  _ not  _ want to talk to any reporters, “Sorry.”

The man laughed casually, standing tall over Alexander, 

“I know who you are,” He stated simply, extending a hand, “Aaron Burr, news reporter. I thought I’d get some quotes for a story I’m doing on the murders-”   
  
“I thought you’d already done your story,” Alex hugged his arms close to his chest, not meeting Aaron’s direct eyeline, “We saw you last night on the news.”

Aaron smirked, not backing down,

“That was the story about the body at the vigil,” He edged closer to Alexander, “Now I’m working on the story as it unfolds. You knew the victims personally, correct?”

Alexander felt his breath quickening, anxiety levels soaring high until he suddenly felt a familiar arm close around him.

“Is this man bothering you, Alex?” Thomas asked, sternly, meeting Aaron’s gaze without fear, totally unintimidated by him. Aaron pursed his lips, sliding his notepad into his pocket,

“Thomas Jefferson,” He fixed his jacket, puffing out his chest slightly, “I was just asking Alex some questions-”   
  
“That’s  _ Alexander  _ to you,” Thomas kept Alex close, the smaller of the three men sinking into Thomas’ side like butter into toast, seeking the comfort it offered. Aaron clenched his jaw, stepping back as his eyes narrowed,

“I’ll be seeing you both around, take care,” He grinned, shooting a sly wink, “There’s a killer on the loose.”

Alexander and Thomas watched him walk away, Thomas huffing heavily as he turned to face Alex,

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, running the back of his hand over Alex’s temple, pushing his hair back gently. Alex’s heart skipped a beat, wanting to grab Thomas’ hand and just hold it there. He nodded his head, looking up at him,

“Yeah, sorry, he caught me off guard,” He replied, laughing awkwardly, “He’s really interested in us as a group. Are you going to Lafayette’s?” He asked, shrugging his bag up his shoulder. Thomas nodded, grinning as he pulled his car keys from his pocket,

“Want a ride?” He asked coyly, Alex’s deep brown eyes lighting up as he nodded.

_ More than anything, Thomas _ . 

Across the parking lot, John sat in his car, scrolling through the endless texts he’d passed back and forth with Peggy. He sat back in the driver’s seat, sighing heavily as he felt his phone begin to buzz. 

_ Incoming call from Peggy _ . His chest tightened, raising the phone to his ear as he answered,

“Hello?”

“That detective is sniffing around, Johnboy,” The killer growled, “He’s looking for leads, you’re not going to give him any, are you?”

“Woah, woah, slow down,” John winced, “We made a deal. I’m not gonna say anything.” He assured, as much as it burned him to do so. The killer was silent for a moment, before taking a long breath,

  
“Good boy. I’d hate to let some information slip, after all. The boyfriend is always the prime suspect,” The killer purred wryly in John’s ear, mocking him, “I’d hate to give them  _ more  _ reason to suspect you.”

“The police don’t know about Peggy and my relationship,” John retorted, the killer sharply cutting him off,

“Not yet, Johnboy, but keep arguing with me and they’ll know  _ real  _ quick.”

Silence again. John massaged his forehead slowly, closing his eyes,

“I won’t tell him anything, just… Why are you doing this? What did we do?”

“I have my reasons, Johnboy,” The killer chuckled darkly, “But that’s for me to know, and for you to find out.”

The line went dead, and John threw his phone down on the passenger seat, resting his forehead against the steering wheel. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t  _ not  _ show up to Lafayette’s because that would look sus as fuck, but he couldn’t stop them from telling the cops about the phones, could he?

He had a lot of thinking to do. He started the engine, and drove out of the parking lot, putting Lafayette’s house into his maps app. He turned the radio on loud, and just allowed himself to drive, emptying his mind of any worry or concern while he could.

  * • •



Lafayette’s house was way out of town, a huge farmhouse conversion in the outskirts of town, nestled in acres of farmland his family had owned for hundreds of years. The group sat upstairs in Lafayette’s large bedroom, Maria and James sitting beside Lafayette on his bed. She checked her phone, glancing at the others in the room. Eliza paced back and forth, Angelica placing a hand on her shoulder to guide her to sit down. Thomas sat with Alexander between his legs, tying the smaller man’s hair back into a ponytail for him. 

“Guys, what are we going to say to the police?” Eliza asked finally, standing up again as Angelica tried to get her to sit down. John swallowed the lump in his throat slowly, looking down into his lap,

“I don’t know, but…” He tried, closing his eyes and attempting to just get it out of his system, “I don’t think we should tell them about the phones.”   
  
The symphony of astounded ‘ _ what _ ’s shook John’s core, but he had to stay strong. He’d convinced himself that if  _ anyone  _ found out that he was AWOL during Peggy’s murder, he’d be charged without question. It was the only thing that made sense in his head. He sat forward, shaking his head,

“Guys, this killer,  _ whoever they are _ ,” He gestured grandly, “They texted Lafayette using Hercules’ phone, they called Eliza using a different phone, so even if we tell the police… They’ve more than likely got more phones,” He reasoned as best he could, “What would telling the police do?”

“They could track the phones?” Maria suggested with a heavy air of sarcasm, several members of the group nodding in agreement. John wanted to withdraw, he wanted so badly to just brush it off and tell them to forget he’d said anything. 

But he couldn’t do that.

“But what if the killer knows we told the police? He could just dump the phones, he’s too smart for that,” He winced, “We can’t try to outplay this guy.”

“You’re talking like you’ve had first hand experience,” Thomas said slowly, resting his arms around Alexander’s shoulders, “Has the killer called you?”

John’s stomach did a somersault as Thomas asked him the question. He had to think on his feet so quickly, when he started a sentence he didn’t even know how it would end. 

“No, but he was able to put together that whole vigil last night,” He blurted out, his mouth going faster than his brain could keep up, “And he could stash Hercules’ body in that banner, he knows what he’s doing.”

Angelica paused for a moment, before nodding her head,

“John’s got a point you guys,” She added, rising to stand beside her sister, “I don’t like it anymore than you do, but if we want to beat this psycho we have to play by his rules.”   
  
Lafayette frowned, shuffling forward to the edge of his bed so he could lean in, one eyebrow cocked,

“And what would that do? Allow us to walk right into his hand, he’d pick us off one by one.”

“No,” John said quickly, the attention falling on him again, “I… I don’t think he would. He’s smarter than that.”

The room fell silent again, before Alexander piped up at last,

“He’s got Herc’s head,” He reminded everyone, John feeling his throat constrict as he remembered the picture on his phone, “And he’s gonna come after one of us next.”

“We need to stick together,” Eliza clasped her hands together, looking around the room, “Or at least stay in groups of two or three. There’s eight of us, I don’t think I could handle seeing that number go down again.” She had a break in her voice as she thought about the friends she’d lost already. The group had a moment of silence to remember Peggy and Hercules, but they were unanimous.

They had to stick together as best they could, as hard as that would be, and they all had the lingering question in the back of their minds… 

What was gonna come first? Graduation or death?

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for everyone's continued support, who do you think the killer is? Sound off in the comments, let's see if anyones on the right track!


	5. No Way Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a dark cloud begins to form over the town, Aaron makes it his goal to be the hero of the story, and two hearts become one in a silent confession of feelings.

Aaron Burr sat in his news van beside his assistant Jimmy, flicking through his notepad with narrowed eyes,

“This could be my big break, Jimmy,” He mused, flicking his pad closed and sitting back in the driver’s seat, Jimmy glancing to him from his laptop where he spliced together footage of shots he’d captured around town that day for filler, “If I play my cards right, I could get a pulitzer for this.”

“Or a peabody,” Jimmy chuckled under his breath, yelping as Aaron punched him swiftly in the arm, wincing as he rubbed his bicep, “It’s just as good!”  
  
Aaron scowled, looking out the windscreen at the townsfolk wandering by,

“No, Jimmy. This is gonna be big, but I can’t just report about this…” He trailed off, drumming his fingers on the windshield, “I have to solve it. I have to _be a part of it_.”

Jimmy flinched, closing his laptop with a click,

“What are you talking about?” He asked, Aaron meeting his confused gaze with a confident grin,

“I’m gonna find out who the killer is,” He was incredibly sure of himself, his eyes glinting in the light, “And I’m gonna catch him myself.”

Jimmy wanted to protest, but even though he’d been working with Aaron for only a short amount of time, he knew there was no arguing with him. Either way, he was in for the long haul filming this guy and his crazy plans to catch a killer. 

  * • •



That morning before school, Detective Washington sat in his assigned office in the station, going over the case file with the information he’d gathered, looking up from his desk as he heard a knock on his door. 

Alexander stood there, his hands clasped at his front, 

“Detective Washington?” He asked, the older man smiling warmly as he stood,

“Alexander, please, come in,” He gestured to the seat on the other side of his desk, “Have a seat, son.”

Alexander pulled out the seat, and sat down slowly, his glasses sliding awkwardly down his nose. He was clearly nervous, and George wanted to reassure him of his safety,   
“Thank you for coming into see me,” He sat back, fixing his tie, “I know it can be scary coming to see the police about matters like this.”

The young man across from him adjusted his glasses, his hands resting nervously at his sides as he shrank into the seat.

“My friends thought that we shouldn’t have come,” He winced, “But I wanted to tell you that the killer-” His breath hitched, and he closed his eyes, “...The killer has the victims’ phones.”  
  
George leaned on his desk, his voice lowering as he watched Alex’s body language,

“Is that so? We’ll talk about your friends in just a moment, what brings you to this conclusion? You can trust me, son.” He asked slowly, Alex taking a deep breath before beginning to explain what he knew,

“The night that Hercules’ body was dropped on the stage, Lafayette was texting Hercules’ phone,” Alex began, George scribbling his notes as he listened, “Lafayette got a text right before Eliza pulled the cord, so it couldn’t have been Herc sending the texts. Peggy’s phone wasn’t found with… Her body,” He shuddered slightly, “And Eliza got a call from the killer at school yesterday. They have multiple phones, and they’re using them to mess with us.”

George set his pen down, taking a moment to pause and digest the information he’d been given. He opened his desk drawer, and slid the notepad inside before closing it. He sat forward, a gentle smile blooming on his lips,

“Thank you, Alexander. This is incredibly valuable information, it’s not easy to go against your friends and you did the right thing. I hope that we can rely on you in the future.” He was calm, standing and extending a hand to the young man. Alexander rose to his feet, shaking George’s hand timidly with a small smile,

“Thank you Detective Washington, I just want my friends to be safe.” He nodded, picking his bag up off the floor and exiting the office, closing the door behind himself. 

Thomas stood from his seat in the waiting area, his eyes wide as Alexander approached him,

“Are you okay? Did you tell him?” He asked. Alex nodded, and Thomas took him into a tight, warm hug, kissing his forehead tenderly, “You did the right thing, Alex,” He assured, but Alex was quiet, as in all honesty he didn’t know if he _did_ do the right thing. He’d confided in Thomas that he wanted to tell the police, and Thomas had encouraged him to do so, but suddenly he felt a deep guilt. 

They broke their hug, and Thomas put an arm around Alex, guiding him out the station,

“Let’s get to school, okay? The others will worry where we are.” He whispered to him, Alex managing a slight ‘yeah’ in response as they walked to Thomas’ car. 

The drive to school was quiet, Alex staring out the window as he tried to handle his inner conflict, his heart aching at the thought of the friends he’d lost. Thomas tried to start several conversations, but Alex was too distant to respond. 

The car came to a stop in a parking space, and Thomas turned to Alexander, 

“Alex, you’ve been quiet since we left the station. Please, what’s wrong?” He was soft, tender, placing a hand delicately on Alexander’s shoulder. The smaller man exhaled slowly, looking back at him,

“I’m just worried,” He admitted, his eyes full of emotion now that Thomas had a good look at him, “I’m worried that maybe we shouldn’t have told the police. John said if we want to beat this guy we have to play by his rules, what if… What if he kills someone?” His voice broke, suddenly taking Thomas’ hand in his, “What if he kills _you_?”

Thomas gazed at Alexander, his heart pulsing in his chest as he felt Alex’s hand, and he leaned in quickly, stealing a kiss without a moment’s hesitation.

A fierce blush blossomed on Alex’s face as he kissed Thomas back, the two sharing the moment in a blissful silence. He’d always _liked_ Thomas, and part of him knew that Thomas had always liked him, but in that moment where they finally allowed themselves to submit to their feelings was worth its weight in gold. Their lips slowly broke, and Thomas couldn’t resist a quiet laugh, looking into Alexander’s eyes, who squeezed his hand tightly.

  
“You did the right thing,” Thomas reassured, squeezing Alex’s hand, “Come on, we need to get to class.”

  * • •



The day went without major hitches, the school was adamant to keep students in classes for their safety, but little did they know that the school had already been home to one butchering; and it was soon to house a second, more brutal killing. It was only a matter of time.

Alexander lay across Thomas’ lap in the yard, sitting with the others as he continued to stew over his morning at the police station. Maria groaned as she lay back, staring up at the sky,

  
“If I see one more post about hashtag-murderville, I’m going to be sick.” She was the most social media savvy of the group, but the stream of attacks and slander against their hometown was becoming unbearable, a constant reminder of the awful events they were living through.

Angelica hugged her knees to her chest, wincing,

“Have the videos stopped?” She asked, almost too afraid to do so, subconsciously knowing the answer already. Maria raised her phone to her eye line, and frowned, dropping it at her side once more,

“Nope. They’ve added captions now… Has anyone heard anything?” She asked, glancing at her friends. John quickly shook his head, thankful that he hadn’t actually been contacted since the day before. The group remained quiet, until Thomas finally spoke,

“Honestly that scares me more,” He admitted, running his fingers through Alexander’s hair slowly, “We need to stay safe, okay? Stick together.”

“But how? We can’t just stay together all day and all night,” James muttered, shooting a look at Thomas and Alexander, “Unlike you… Two have decided to.” He hesitated on his word choice, but he couldn’t deny how the sudden closeness of Alex and Thomas made his stomach twist. 

It wasn’t right. _Thomas wasn’t like that_. 

“Guys, guys,” Eliza interjected quickly, “Please. If we’re at home, we have our families. As long as we stay in pairs when we’re out of school, we’ll be okay.”

“What makes you say that?” A deep voice asked, the group shooting to attention as Aaron Burr approached with his familiar notepad. Thomas immediately went into defence mode, and Lafayette’s eyes narrowed as he spoke up,

“It’s none of your business, mauvais journaliste,” He spat, Aaron raising his hands in surrender with a playful grin,

“Hey now, I’m just doing my job Frenchie,” He chuckled, “I want this killer caught just as much as you kids, I want to help. It’s not every day you get to live in real life slasher fiction.”

Thomas scowled, keeping Alexander close in his arms as he looked up at Aaron,

“What do _you_ know?” He asked sharply, the group murmuring in agreement as attention fell on Aaron, who took the floor confidently with ease, a dangerous flash in his eyes,

“I know that when it comes to slasher fiction… All bets are off,” He smirked, “There’s no rules, and danger lurks at every turn, which is why I want to help,” He folded his arms to his chest, his eyes running across the group slowly, “I want to catch this killer, but I can’t do that without your cooperation.”  
  
“Why are you so interested?” John asked, heavily suspicious of Aaron and his reasons for wanting to help them, “You didn’t even know who we all are before this happened, in fact, I’ve never even _seen_ you before all this.”   
  
Aaron pursed his lips, his jaw tight as he sensed John’s suspicions of him. He had to prove to these kids that they could trust him, but he didn’t know how,

“I respect your concerns,” He gestured to John, his other hand on his chest, “But I’m no murderer, I have my assistant to vouch for my whereabouts for the past two days. I want to help you all, but I can’t do that unless you trust me.”

James stood, squaring up to Aaron,

“We don’t trust easily, brother,” He puffed his chest, “You better back off.” He had allowed his masculinity to get the better of him, but Aaron didn’t back down, he instead offered a rebuttal to James’ display of testosterone, making direct eye contact as he did so,

“You’d be careful not to display such aggressive behaviour, mister Madison,” He wore a smug grin, “The cops are desperate for a lead, and some hormone fueled antagonism might just be all they need to make an arrest.” His response was calculated enough to make James immediately back down, huffing a mumbled protest as he sat back with his friends on the grass. Aaron slid his notepad into his pocket, sighing heavily, “I can’t force you kids to trust me, but I’m not leaving town until this bastard is caught. I’ll see you all around.” He waved, before leaving the schoolyard, leaving the group to ponder on their conversation.

  * • •



The school bell rang, and students began to file out of the school in groups, as per the county sheriff’s request. The school was going to start offering self defense classes, and the police were due to start patrolling the streets at all hours. 

The town had never been safer, as far as everyone was aware. John threw his bag into his car, flinching as he heard that oh so familiar ringtone. He grabbed his phone, and reluctantly answered,

“Yes?”

“The police know,” The killer rasped suddenly, “They know about the phones. I thought I told you to keep a lid on it.”

John froze, his heartbeat doubling in a matter of seconds,

“I… What? We did, we agreed not to say anything…!” He tried, the killer cutting him off swiftly,

“You failed me, Johnboy. One of your _beloved_ little friends spilled the beans, so if you don’t find out who I’m gonna have to get a little knife happy,” The killer hissed, the threatening tone of his words causing John to sweat as he attempted to calm him down,

“Please, I’ll find out who it was, please, just don’t hurt anyone.” He pleaded, the lack of response making him ultimately even more nervous, until the crackly metallic voice broke through again,

“I’ll give you another chance, Johnboy,” His voice was suddenly dark, but calm, “Fuck it up again, and you won’t see the final chapter.”

The line went dead, and John stood still for a moment. His breathing was slow, but his heartbeat throbbed in his temples, a sudden burst of rage swelling through his entire body as he threw his phone against the back seat of his car, a frustrated yell breaking out from his chest. 

He sat heavily in the driver’s seat, his anguish having made way for anger, steadily becoming more and more agitated by his position. He was a victim of circumstance, but he couldn’t tell the others now, he was in too deep. 

There was no way out.

Inside the school, Angelica stood in the woodwork classroom, steadily sanding down her senior year project as it neared completion. This would be the final piece of her exhibition that would get her into RISD, her future. She’d been allowed to stay after school by her teacher, who assured her that he would be in the next room.

The reality was, he’d merely left the buzzsaw in the next room running while he sat in his car and smoked an entire pack of cigarettes, just so it sounded like he was next door. Angelica set her sandpaper aside, stepping back to admire her work from a distance. It was a functional, stylish piece of home decor, designed entirely by herself. She smiled, reaching to the table to grab her phone, picking it up only as it began to ring, causing her to jump. She frowned at the unknown number, declining the call and unlocking her phone, proceeding to take pictures of her work instead. She knew better than to answer a call from an unknown number, especially after what Eliza told her.

Her phone began to ring again, from an unknown number. Angelica’s frown became a scowl, and she declined the call a second time, moving around her work to take a picture from another angle, when her phone rang a third time.

_Incoming call from Peggy_.

Angelica stared at her phone, and her heart burned with a spectrum of emotions. She answered, and the low chuckle on the other end of the line made her shiver,

“That got your attention, huh,” The killer purred, Angelica focusing her emotions into a tightly clenched fist, her eyes dark,

“You son of a bitch,” She sneered, “You’ve got some guts trying to mess with me.”

The killer laughed, Angelica looking around the workshop slowly,

“Ooh, feisty,” He mused, “Your sister was the same… Until she realised she didn’t stand a chance.”  
  
“Don’t you _dare_ talk about my sister,” Angelica’s voice raised sharply, and she began to move around the room, “You picked the wrong day to try me, I’ve got someone next door who will call the police in seconds, do you really want to run that risk?”

“Come next door and we’ll talk some more about risks.” The killer invited menacingly, Angelica looking to the door that connected her classroom to the next one. She was tense, grabbing a nearby screwdriver to defend herself with as she approached the door,

“What did you do to mister Franklin?” She asked slowly, attempting to look through the glass pane between rooms. The killer’s low laugh echoed from the other end of the line,

“Open the door and find out.”

Angelica cautiously opened the door, and stepped inside, the obnoxious whirring of the buzzsaw going straight through her. She kept the phone to her ear, and the screwdriver tightly in her other hand,

“Where are you?”

“Enjoying the fan fiction so far, Angie?” The killer taunted, paying no attention to Angelica’s questions, “I hear this chapter’s a real bitch.”

“Answer me,” Angelica was firm, looking around constantly, ready to defend herself from whatever came her way. She couldn’t let Eliza endure another loss, she had to get out of there, “I said, _answer me_.”

“The question isn’t where am I, Angie,” The killer spoke slowly, “The question is, _why aren’t you running_?”

Angelica paused, lowering her arm, eyes narrowing,

“What?”

The supply closet door flew open, several planks of wood that had been positioned against it falling to the floor with a crash, and Angelica looked quickly over her shoulder, taking swift steps back as she saw the tall, menacing, muscular figure before her.

The killer stared back, knife firmly in their hand, as they stood there clad entirely in their black clothes, save for the eerie mask they donned for their vicious deeds. They lunged for Angelica, who dodged them quickly, grabbing the corner of a tall metal shelf adorned with multiple odds and ends, throwing it to the ground behind her as she made a break for the door. She grabbed the door handle, attempting to jemmy it open. It was locked, and it wouldn’t budge. She barged into it with her shoulder, but nothing worked. She looked over her shoulder, screaming as the killer plunged the knife towards her, narrowly missing her and lodging in the wood of the door beside her head. Angelica ducked down, escaping beneath their arm as they attempted to free their weapon. She looked around frantically for her screwdriver, which she’d dropped in her attempt to break the door down, but as her guard was lowered she felt two hands close around the collar of her shirt, and she was hoisted into the air. She flailed, kicking the killer in the abdomen repeatedly as she pleaded for them to stop, her hands attempting desperately to break her free from his grasp. She cried out for help, but her pleas were drowned out by the monotonal whirr of the buzzsaw, which only became louder as she was carried over to it. 

Angelica looked down at the buzzsaw as the killer held her above it, and then looked back at them, her eyes glistening with tears as she choked back the sobs. She knew this was it. She was going to die, so in her final moments she reached out, and snatched the mask from the killer’s head, staring them in the eyes.

And she screamed, as her body was thrown on onto the buzzsaw, the sharp, spinning metal blade cutting straight through her back, into her body and through her front, shredding her from the inside as blood sprayed into the air and across the wall, the overwhelming pain causing Angelica’s entire body to spasm, until chunks of her flesh and muscles jammed the blade. Her eyes began to dim, and she stared her killer right in the face as they loomed over her, leaning down to her level. She couldn’t speak, she could barely breathe in those last few seconds before she blacked out, but she looked at them.

She saw them. 

  * • •



When Mr Franklin returned to the classroom, three things were absolutely certain. Firstly, he was fired. Secondly, he would need therapy for the rest of his life, and finally, the school would never recover. They were going to have to close their doors, and students would need to stay at home until this nightmare was over.

  
But, we all know that it was _far_ from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to read my fic! Your viewership and support is deeply appreciated, and as always, comments, kudos and bookmarks mean the absolute world! Thank you again!!


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